there ain't no me if there ain't no you

"it hurts" sam says from the back seat of the impala.  they couldn’t do anything in front of that church, so dean just shoved them in the car and drove, and he’s been driving for hours and sam’s still crying and angels are still falling.  he hates to say it but the sight is truly beautiful, reminiscent of the skies that he and sam used to watch on the hood of the impala all those years ago.  if they make it out of this, both of them, alive, then dean wants to get them back to that…  he wants to get back to saving people, hunting things, being sam’s big brother, pranks and vegas week…

but right now sam is crying in the back, “it hurts, dean, it hurts,” and it’s almost killing dean from the inside out so he pulls over and drags sam out of the car, pulls them both onto the hood of the impala and he cuddles as close as he can to his brother.  sam holds on like there’s nothing left for him to hold onto except this ratty old flannel shirt of dean’s, and that’s okay because at least sam is holding onto dean.

"look up, Sammy, just look up," and sam tries to, he really does, but his vision is cloudy, dean can freaking see it, and he’s crying but he clings to dean, and it reminds him of every single time sam has ever clung to him in sam’s entire life.  dean prays to someone, anyone, that the pain will put sam to sleep or knock him out so he’ll stop having to live through it, but sam surprises him by smiling.  he grins so hard and so wide up at the sky, watching it fall around them. 

"this is the place I wanted everything to end," he says.  "I never wanted to die, dean…  but I wanted it to end, with you.  like this.  like nothing else mattered.”

dean never knew the word “so” would hold so many demons and so many monsters in it.  he never knew that one word could feel like flaming daggers being shoved into every inch of his soul.

maybe dean’s crying, maybe he isn’t, but sam falls asleep or into some semblance of sleep and dean cries, or he doesn’t, or he prays but sam is starting to smell a little bit like sam again, like vanilla and old spice and gun powder…

and maybe “so” isn’t that bad if they both feel it together




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    “it hurts” sam says from the back seat of the impala. they couldn’t do anything in front of that church, so dean just...
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    NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE
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